


You don't know a thing about this life

by Marishna



Series: Drips, drops and drabbles - significant moments of insignificantness [35]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02, Short One Shot, The Argent Family, The Hale Fire, Vengeful Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: When it woke him in the middle of the night he knew he had to do something. Stiles had every right to be angry; he’d been kidnapped and assaulted after all, and trying to defend Derek’s betas at that.  But Derek knew the stakes in this fight and that Stiles was nowhere near ready or capable for it.He tracked him to the edge of the Argent property, lying in the tall grass in the tree line.





	You don't know a thing about this life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a song prompt challenge at card_writing for gameofcards on LJ. Song prompt: Ambulance by My Chemical Romance

Stiles was on a warpath.

He radiated his anger to the point that Derek could feel the most powerful of his emotions through the incredibly tenuous pack connection they had. That Derek could feel a human at all was incredible enough but it’s not like he had anyone to ask how it was possible. 

He wasn't there all the time, and when he was it wasn’t always clear but something distinctly Stiles flashed through Derek's brain in spikes.

Waves of anger, moments of revulsion, and a drive for justice. No, vengeance. Every powerful thing Stiles felt would zing through Derek like a slight shock. 

When it woke him in the middle of the night he knew he had to do something. Stiles had every right to be angry; he’d been kidnapped and assaulted after all, and trying to defend Derek’s betas at that. But Derek knew the stakes in this fight and that Stiles was nowhere near ready or capable for it.

He tracked him to the edge of the Argent property, lying in the tall grass in the tree line. He had a set of police-issue binoculars in hand and a baseball bat at his side. Derek sniffed the air, trying to get a feel for the situation. 

As soon as he smelled it his claws extended immediately. He slipped through the darkness and reached down to grab Stiles by his hoodie, clapping one hand over his mouth as he swiftly pulled him to his feet.

“Mmmffmgh!” 

“Shut up, Stiles. Are you carrying a gun?” Derek snarled in his ear.

Stiles shook his head as best he could against Derek’s grip and tried to point to the Argent house. Derek uncovered his mouth carefully so as not to swipe him with his claws.

“It was Chris doing target practice!” Stiles hissed. “About an hour ago.”

Derek relaxed slightly and let Stiles go, making him catch himself before he fell forward on his face. Once he righted himself Stiles spun around and got into Derek’s face, eyes wild.

“What the fuck, Derek?”

“Me? What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

Derek heard something in the distance, sounded like a door opening, and he shoved Stiles back to the ground with an _oof_. Stiles shot him a glare but Derek just held his finger up as he strained to hear anything out of the ordinary. To his left and behind he heard the rustling of something small in the dead leaves and the crickets were still chirping occasionally. 

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked quietly. Stiles just pressed his lips together and stared straight ahead at the house. “Stiles.”

“Go away, Derek,” Stiles shot back in a warning tone. 

“Why? Because this doesn’t involve me? Newsflash, Stiles. This is all my life has been for the past eight years.”

Stiles still didn’t say anything but the corner of his mouth twitched. 

“This isn’t the way we deal with things,” Derek continued softly. 

“There’s no ‘we’ here,” Stiles replied lowly.

“Do you think you’re going to wait here until Gerard walks back into that house and then, what? You’re going after him with this bat?” Derek picked it up before Stiles could grab it and held it out of his reach. He tightened one hand around the wooden base and squeezed until they heard splintering.

“That’s not yours!” Stiles exclaimed, trying to snatch it back. Derek tossed it into the trees and then turned back to Stiles with a flat look.

“You want to do something about the Argents?” Derek asked. 

“Yes,” Stiles spit back.

“Help me. I’m trying to track Erica and Boyd down. We _need_ them,” Derek said hurriedly when Stiles started to protest. “I want to take Gerard and Kate down more than you and I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you have. Work with me or…”

“Or what?” Stiles challenged.

Derek shrugged. “I’ll tell your dad.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue but then swore and seemed to deflate. 

Derek took a deep breath. “I need your help, Stiles.”

They were quiet for a minute, maybe more. Stiles was staring down at his hands in the grass, obviously working his options through in his mind.

“Fine,” he said finally. “But you owe me a new baseball bat.”

Derek grumbled but agreed. And didn’t move. Neither did Stiles. 

By the time they quietly made their way out of the trees the lights in the Argent house had long since gone out but Derek felt buoyed by the one he felt burning brightly in Stiles.


End file.
